


the minor fall, the major lift

by huntainers



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Gen, Multi, Redtail-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:09:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huntainers/pseuds/huntainers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then he's gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the minor fall, the major lift

**Author's Note:**

> Holy damn. This was a huge, huge project that I've been working on for, like, months! Very slowly, I've been building this up, and now I've finally been successful in making this one-shot come to life! A big, fat, Redtail-appreciation one-shot. The only spoilers are for the first ark and some of BP, obviously.

# the minor fall, the major lift {warrior cats, redtail}

**Title:** the minor fall, the major lift

**Rating:** T

**Characters/Pairings:** Redtail, ThunderClan; background pairings.

**Summary:**  And then he’s gone.

**Authors Note:** Holy damn. Finally, this is done and over with! Basically, a miniature super edition about Redtail’s life. And this is a reminder abut why no one should write about the BP timeline. There is so much foreshadowing. Title from “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen.

**the minor fall, the major lift**

Redkit is born to Swiftbreeze and Adderfang of ThunderClan, right when the sun had begun to rise. He’s the first in his litter to experience the frightening and beautiful world outside of his mothers womb, followed shortly thereafter by his sister Willowkit. Spottedkit comes last, her small and delicate form pressing against Redkit’s as she mews for milk instinctively.

Goosefeather, the Clan’s estranged medicine cat, tells his mother that kits born in the morning are a good omen; they are destined to live long, happy lives and to bring peace and prosperity to their Clan’s. Most become leaders, medicine cats, deputies, and senior warriors, too.

But Redkit mostly just enjoys the feeling of knowing that he came into this earth right when another day was beginning; it makes him feel like he’s brought light to the world.

–

Although he loves Willowkit dearly, he’s closest with his youngest sister, Spottedkit.

Swiftbreeze often makes loving remarks that it may have something to do with them both having tortoiseshell pelts ( _“Sometimes I can hardly tell the difference between you two. I never would’ve guessed that I’d have two little copies of each other running around.”_ ), ending her small quip with a soft lick to their foreheads.

But, to be honest, Redkit is closest to Spottedkit out of the rest of his three other siblings because the two were alike in other ways aside from their coat colors; they upheld StarClan and the warrior code to the highest degree. Despite their young age, both were serious, and couldn’t wait to be older, for most of the same reasons that every other kit and young apprentice does.

Their similar ambitions, their deep love for their parents, and their similar tastes in prey are what make them close.

–

Redkit has a very deep and profound appreciation for his father.

Adderfang is a senior warrior, and is honestly one of the strongest and bravest cats in the Clan – even more than Sunstar, he thinks. And although sometimes his father’s judgment is clouded and narrow minded, he still takes time out of his duties in order to play and accompany his kittens and his mate.

(Which is more than he can say for some other fathers.)

In short, Adderfang is everything that Redkit wants to be when he grows up.

–

When he and his sisters are four moons old – only two moons away from becoming apprentices – the nursery gets two new additions; Mousekit and Runningkit.

Both take after their father, Sparrowpelt, in pelt color; though Mousekit’s is plain like her mother, White-eye, Runningkit’s fur has stripes striking his pelt in what Redkit thinks is a unique and cool pattern.

They’re younger than them, obviously, but that doesn’t stop Willowkit from latching onto Mousekit right when she’s born.

Redkit thinks that the reason for Willowkit spending more time with Mousekit than with Spottedkit is due to the fact that Mousekit is more energetic. The little dusky-brown kitten already has an aptitude for tottering after their older denmates, proclaiming that she can’t wait to become the greatest fighter in ThunderClan’s history.

Despite the fact that it’s blatantly obvious that Willowkit doesn’t enjoy her company as much as she does Mousekit’s, Spottedkit is still kind and understanding about the whole ordeal, mostly staying beside Redkit while their sister and their new denmates play around outside.

–

He first notices that Spottedkit doesn’t belong with the life of a warrior when they reach their fifth moon.

He and Willowkit are giddy and excited about becoming apprentices in only a moon’s time, both flocking toward Whitepaw, Brindlepaw, and Frostpaw – three of the Clan’s apprentices – and already asking a million questions about warrior training and if they could maybe teach them a thing or two now.

But, out of the corner of his eye, he can always see Spottedkit sitting off to the side, an uncomfortable and despondent look in her golden gaze.

Redkit always notices how little she attempts to input in their conversations about apprentice duties, and in what cat they want to receive as their mentor’s, but he never asks her why.

–

Whitepaw becomes Whitestorm a few days after that; his yellow gaze is bright with appreciation and approval toward his new name, and Redkit can’t help but think that the snow-white tom looks extremely regal in the golden sunlight.

Whitestorm hops down, and Redkit immediately sees Bluefur – a senior warrior – pad up to him, her azure gaze glowing with pride.

The two warriors have a relationship that Redkit thinks is both tragic and amazing at the same time. Bluefur was his aunt, but she was more attentive and proud of him than any mother could be of their kits, he thinks.

–

The first death that he ever experiences is of Mumblefoot, one of the Clans elders, and it’s a few days before he become an apprentice.

The way that the entire Clan mourns for him, all staying silent and respectful as Sunstar gives a small speech about the fallen elder, makes Redkit feel proud, strangely.

He’s proud to see something as unified as a vigil; it makes him realize that all the things that Swiftbreeze has told him and his sisters about how being in a Clan is special, is true.

It’s a sad day in ThunderClan, but Redkit likes to think that everyone feels just a bit better when Featherwhisker says a few words about StarClan.

–

Redpaw is positive that his apprentice ceremony will always be the best day of his life.

He receives Sparrowpelt as his mentor, and he’s happy with the decision; Sparrowpelt has always seemed like a nice cat, and, even though his fear of trees is something that bothers Redpaw, the large tabby’s pleasure of his enthusiasm to learn everything makes up for it.

Willowpaw gets the newly named Whitestorm as her mentor,

(Redpaw doesn’t miss the way her eyes light up, and the way she pushes her nose up against his is just a _little_ too long)

and Spottedpaw is apprenticed to Thrushpelt.

Adderfang gives his youngest son a nod of approval, amber eyes bright with pride, before he licks the space between his ears. Their mother just smiles fondly at her second litter, telling the three of them that she and their father were _extremely_ proud of them.

Redpaw already feels like a warrior, and he’s not even a minute into true training.

–

“Your stance is good,” Sparrowpelt tells him one leafbare afternoon, his yellow eyes tracing over his form. “But it’s not perfect just yet. Your paws-” A large paw touches the space just above his back leg, beginning to slide it back. “-need to be back more. If you rear is sticking up, the prey isgoing to be able to see you before you even try to launch yourself at it.”

Even though Redpaw takes the advice to heart immediately, he can’t help but watch as Sparrowpelt draws back up to his full height and feel _jealous._

He’s small for his age of six and a half moons – as is Spottedpaw – and, even though size doesn’t matter when it comes for a life a warrior, it _bothers_ him.

Redpaw can’t help but feel angry when he has to look up at almost every cat that speaks to him, and feel embarrassed when his limbs are not long enough to catch up to Sparrowpelt, Whitestorm, and Thrushpelt on time.

No one says anything, but Redpaw can’t help but feel like size _does_ matter – at least just a little bit.

–

Spottedpaw has been acting strange lately, even more strange than usual.

She hangs back when they’re training, not focusing on the lesson at hand, and looks at the plants and foliage around them, as if making mental notes about each of them.

Just like when he was a kit, he chooses to be silent on the matter – even though he knows that he’s the closest to his little sister, even more close than Swiftbreeze.

Redpaw watches as Thrushpelt sighs, shaking his head as Spottedpaw tells him yet again that she was out searching for herbs with Featherwhisker, rather than partaking in her duties to the Clan. The sandy-gray tom blinks down at her.

There’s something in his gaze, like he knows something that Redpaw doesn’t about his sister.

Later that night, Redpaw catches her off guard, blinking at her and frowning.

“Are you okay?” he asks carefully, watching as his twin sister sighs, staring down at the ground and scuffling her paws in the thin layer of snow.

“No…not really,” she begins, shaking her head. “I just…this isn’t the life that I’m cut out for, you know?”

Redpaw’s eyes widen. “You’re not- You’re going to leave ThunderClan?” he asks, his voice a frightened whisper.

She looks taken aback, her ears flattening for just a heartbeat. “What? No! I’d never!” she cries out, before clamping her mouth shut, and peering into the apprentices den.

Redpaw flicks his thick tail. “What are you talking about, than?” he asks, stuck between wanting to know, and wishing that she’d keep it to herself.

Spottedpaw glances up at the sky for a few moments, up at the starry expanse that hangs over their heads, before looking back down at Redpaw, a sad smile on her lips.

“I don’t think that I can be a warrior. I like Thrushpelt, and I love training with you and Willowpaw, but I’m just not…it’s not the life for me.” After a few heartbeats of her watching him blink in confusion, she sighs, shaking her head. “I’ve always wanted to be a medicine cat, Red.”

And _oh,_ that makes sense.

He realizes that, to be honest, part of him has always guessed that about her; her leniency to train with him and Willowpaw was just because Spottedpaw would rather be out healing others and making them feel better rather than causing pain.

She looks nervous, as if she’s taking his silence as disapproval.

Redpaw smiles brightly at her, leaning forward and pushing his nose against her’s, purring. “I’ve always kind of guessed that that’s what you’ve wanted to do,” he meows, bobbing his head up and down.

She sighs in relief, and they head into the den together, settling beside Willowpaw.

–

Goosefeather retires his position as medicine cat about a quarter moon later. The ceremony for him is short and awkward; Redpaw doesn’t miss the way that a few cats look irritated as Goosefeather gives a small speech about omens, or something.

Redpaw looks to Spottedpaw, about ready to say: “I feel so much second hand embarrassment right now”, but finds himself pausing open-mouthed when he looks at his sisters gaze.

Her eyes are glazed over with determination, her jaw clenched and set in a way that Redpaw knows only happens when she’s in deep thought. She blinks, and the look is gone.

He smiles. “You can finally be what you want to be now.”

Spottedpaw looks at him, and then glances down with a bashful smile. Redpaw thinks that she’s never looked more hopeful before in her life.

–

Spottedpaw becomes Featherwhisker’s apprentice a few days after; her clear amber gaze is alight with relief and happiness as she accepts the position as medicine cat apprentice.

Redpaw smiles widely, and cheers for her the loudest once the announcement is made, but he doesn’t miss the small glint of betrayal that hits Willowpaw’s eyes when she sees Spottedpaw getting the Clan’s full recognition and support.

He wants to ask her what _that_ is all about, but prying into his sister’s personal feelings has never been his strong suit, so.

He keeps quiet about it.

–

Redpaw respects every warrior in ThunderClan; they all have their skills that attribute to the inner workings of the Clan. If it weren’t for his father, Thistleclaw, or Stormtail, than ThunderClan would be short of expert fighters. If it weren’t for Robinwing or for Patchpelt, the fresh kill pile wouldn’t be as full.

He considers himself to be on good terms with relatively every cat, even the more prickly of cats like Thistleclaw and Tigerclaw. The respect and the appreciation that he has for the warriors makes it so he never back talks them, never shows disrespect.

–

He’s sitting beside Willowpaw, chatting about the newest battle technique that they learned from Sparrowpelt and how they couldn’t _wait_ until they tried it on some faceless RiverClan warrior, when he sees Thrushpelt’s gaze advert to Bluefur’s belly, and then back to his vole.

It’s nothing, really; pretty much every cat in ThunderClan knew of the small tom’s affections for Bluefur, and it was painfully obvious how much it _hurt_ him whenever she once again turned him down.

But Redpaw thinks that it’s what the gaze contains; emotions thinly veiled into his forest green eyes that show concern, sadness, and slight hope.

It’s too private, too reserved, and Redpaw feels guilty for having witnessed it.

–

Willowpaw smiles past him one morning, her blue gaze staring at something behind his shoulder. They’re wide and full of yearning, and Redpaw almost gags when he turns to see that she’s staring at Whitestorm.

He rolls his eyes. “He’s seasons older than you,” he meows, causing her ears to prick and her gaze to snap back to him. “Whitestorm has his eyes on Brindleface, I think, anyway.”

Willowpaw’s eyes narrow, and she gets to her paws in an instant, pink nose twitching in fury. “I don’t like him,” she snaps. Her ear flicks, and his sister glances down at the ground for a moment. “And even if I did, I’d tell you that no, he does not like Brindleface.”

When she leaves, Redpaw wonders what he did to cause such a strange rift to grow between him and his sister.

–

He apologizes to Willowpaw the next morning, telling her that he was sorry for offending her and that he hoped that they were okay.

“I’m not mad at you,” she tells him, shrugging. “I’m just…I’ve been stressed lately, you know? It’s hard for me to remember every single thing that there is to being a warrior; I’m not like you or Spottedpaw. I don’t have a memory for this kind of thing.”

He frowns, and tries to find words to say to her, something that could comfort her because she looks _so_ pitiful in that moment.

But instead, he bends forward and pushes his muzzle against Willowpaw’s.

–

Tawnyspots begins to get ill a few moons later; coughs rattle through the camp, and it’s obvious that he’s either not going to make it through the next few days, or he will, and Sunstar will need to appoint a new deputy while he recovers.

His father, Bluefur, and Thistleclaw are the top three candidates.

He wants his father to become deputy, honestly; Adderfang is a senior warrior, with training that surpasses many other warriors. But if there was even the _slightest_ chance that he didn’t gain the position, Redpaw knows that he’d rather have Bluefur as deputy than Thistleclaw.

The tom was a strong warrior, no doubt, but there was _something_ in his gaze. Something that held emotions and thirst that are too frightening and too scandalous for Redpaw to even _think_ about.

–

Bluefur becomes pregnant with kittens when Redpaw is almost at the middle of his warrior training.

Redpaw congratulates her alongside his sisters, but he can see that her blue gaze is clouded with some sorrowful emotion that Redpaw can’t try to place.

–

Tawnyspots’ condition is getting worse.

Murmurs are going around the camp that Thistleclaw is the only cat that Sunstar sees fit enough to fill the spot that Tawnyspots will leave when he retires or dies (though these are quiet; the Clan still realized that Tawnyspots was alive, and grief was evident in these talks).

Redpaw prays to StarClan that night. He prays that Thistleclaw won’t become deputy because, honestly, the tomcat terrified him.

–

Bluefur’s kits come one leafbare morning – three of them, to be exact.

Redpaw likes little Stonekit the best; the tomkit follows him around constantly, and makes him feel like a warrior already. Both Runningkit and Mousekit seem happy to have him around again, and Redpaw really enjoys making visits to the nursery in his spare time.

Really, it’s kind of what makes him want to be a father.

–

“Hey, can Stonekit, Mistykit, and Mosskit come out and play in the morning? I want to help Stonekit more on his hunting crouch – he kind of needs a bit more of work, but he’ll be a _great_ hunter at the rate he’s going in.” Redpaw meows, smiling up at Bluefur.

The silvery-blue she-cat frowns down at him slightly; her whiskers twitch, and she shakes her head. “Not tomorrow morning. Maybe later in the afternoon after you’re done training.”

Redpaw blinks, and nods slowly, saying a goodbye to Bluefur and her kits.

“Aw, bye Redpaw! I’ll see you tomorrow!” Mistykit calls, only to have her statement followed with an ‘oomph’ as Mosskit jumps on her.

“See you tomorrow,” he tells them, smiling at the three little kittens, and turning back to the camp clearing. Night is beginning to fall, and Redpaw trots into the apprentices den with a smile at his sister.

–

“Redpaw, wake up!”

He feels a paw being pushed into his side, moving his body one way and snapping him awake. His ear flicks in annoyance, his eyes slowly blinking open. The sun didn’t even hit his face – _was it even morning?_

Willowpaw stares down at him, her blue eyes sad and remorseful. Redpaw blinks up at her, getting to his paws and staring at his sister, suddenly alert.

“Bluefur’s kits are gone,” she tells him, her voice low and grave. “Taken by a badger, I think, I’m not-” She stops there, pausing and shaking her head.

Redpaw stares up at her; his amber eyes are wide, his body unmoving as he processes the information that his sister has just thrown on him. He’d seen them _yesterday,_ just a few hours ago. How was this even possible? How could-

“They’re just…gone? Bluefur – is she okay?” he asks, scrambling to his paws and watching as Willowpaw shrugs, shaking her head and frowning.

“I’m not sure,” she tells him, sighing. “I just…I don’t know. Everything is kind of hectic out there.”

Redpaw watches as Willowpaw stares at him for a few more heartbeats, before she murmurs something about needing to go see Whitestorm and check if he was alright.

He stands in his position for just a few more heartbeats, blinking at the entrance of the den. Light is beginning to grow, crawling through the entrance slowly and bathing more and more of the floor in pale light.

–

“Sunstar, I-” Redpaw pricks his ears as soon as he surfaces from the entrance of the den, frowning as he sees Bluefur talking to Sunstar, her blue eyes gleaming in exhaustion and grief. “I just don’t _know._ I woke up and there were-” She pauses again, taking a deep breath and looking to the ground. “They were _gone._ All three of them.”

Sunstar’s green gaze is regal and calm, his head lowering just slightly to be at Bluefur’s level; a look passes through them, a look that he thinks could be an urge of protection.

“We’ll find it, Bluefur,” he meows softly, giving her a weak smile as she lifts her head to meet his gaze. “I’ll send out a patrol, and I myself will search all night if that’s what it takes to find the badger that took them.”

She nods, dully, reaching forward to bump the side of her muzzle against Sunstar’s. The blue-pelted warrior lets out a despondent sigh.

“I just…I failed them,” she tells the leader, her paws scuffling the ground. “I couldn’t protect them. I’m no Moonflower.”

Redpaw sees Sunstar flinch back, as if the mention of the other cat’s name brings back horrible, tainted memories. ThunderClan’s leader frowns, a sudden angry look taking form on his broad features and his tail lashing side to side.

“You don’t need to be your mother, Bluefur,” he tells her quietly, glancing around as if to double check whether any cats were gathered around them. “Moonflower died protecting ThunderClan as a whole. She loved you and Snowfur-” Bluefur looks down at the name, glaring at her paws. “-more than _anything_ in this world. You need to understand that she’ll protect your kits as well.”

Redpaw blinks when he realizes that he’s intruding – _again –_ on a conversation that he probably has no business listening to. He frowns, turning, and padding toward the entrance of camp, where Sparrowpelt, White-eye, and Fuzzypelt are waiting.

–

“You need to get some rest,” Redpaw lifts his head from where it’s tucked against the space behind Willowpaw’s shoulder blades, yawning and peering through the apprentices den. He scents Thrushpelt and Featherwhisker, probably a few tail-lengths away. “You’ll do no good to ThunderClan if you can’t even keep your eyes open.”

He hears Thrushpelt growl softly. “ _No._ Not until that badger is found – I’ll _shred_ it for what it did to Bluefur and her kits.” Redpaw almost reels back in shock at the pure rage deep seated in Thrushpelt’s tone.

Featherwhisker tries to say something else, but he hears pawsteps pass by the apprentices den; Thrushpelt’s scent gets fainter and fainter, until the sound of bracken leaves swishing in someones wake shakes the silence.

–

“….Bluefur will be the new deputy of ThunderClan.”

Though Redpaw is slightly disappointed that his father was not appointed the position, he smiles broadly and cheers for Bluefur. Willowpaw is at his side; his sister smiles and glances at Spottedpaw, both of them joining him in the joyous cries for the newly named deputy.

As he looks away from the proud blue-furred warrior, he steals a glance at Thistleclaw, Bluefur’s main rival for the position.

It’s something about the slight narrowing of his yellow eyes, he supposes, but Redpaw quickly looks away, pretending like it was the breeze that ruffed his fur.

(The air was calm.)

–

The next few moons after the disappearance of Bluefur’s kits and her new deputyship pass on easily ad comfortably; Redpaw finds himself enjoying Sparrowpelt’s training more and more now that the Clan’s atmosphere has lightened up.

In short, it’s a good time in ThunderClan.

–

Redpaw gets his warrior name – Redtail – one newleaf afternoon, after he and Willow _pelt_ had successfully completed their assessment.

Spottedpaw cheers for them the loudest, her wide amber gaze proud and joyful, and presses a pink nose against their muzzles when they pad into the group. As he’s surrounded by his family and friends, he can’t help but notice the gray furs flecking his father’s fur, the small droop to his mother’s eyelids.

He pushes back the discomfort, and smiles, relishing in the fact that he was finally, _finally,_ a warrior.

–

Adderfang falls down on a patrol for an unexplained reason, but he brushes away Swiftbreeze’s coddling and insists that he’s okay.

(Redtail prays to StarClan that he is.)

–

Redtail is sitting in his nest, trying to summon the energy to get up, clear away his grogginess, and get on to a patrol, when Brindleface approaches him, her green eyes soft and kind.

He’s always liked Brindleface; she was pretty in almost every sense of the word, and almost never had anything mean to say about anyone.

(Except perhaps her enemies on the battle field, but.)

The tabby smiles. “Hello, Redtail,” she says, flicking her tail-tip.

He holds down a yawn, and nods to her. “Good morning,” he meows, and then flicks his ear. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing good,” she tells him, and, as the moments pass by, Redtail sees that her smile is actually awkward and slightly embarrassed as she continues with: “I was actually coming to sleep, since I went out late night hunting, but you’re kind of sitting on my nest.”

Redtail blinks, and then looks down behind him, seeing his rear and his tail on half of the pretty she-cat’s nest. The overwhelming feeling of embarrassment wells through him, and he scoots off of the nest, forcing his ears to remain erect.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says, shaking his head and getting to his paws. “I didn’t even realize.”

Brindleface just gives him a bright smile, shrugging. “It’s okay – I’m not going to tackle you, or anything like that.”

He nods, and then begins to head out, murmuring a goodbye and a small comment that he hoped she had good dreams, and then pads out of the den and into the sun washed clearing.

_That was totally embarrassing._

–

Redtail watches as Willowpelt pads alongside Whitestorm, the white tom murmuring something to him, although it looks like she’s not listening. Almost like her mind was somewhere else.

He wants to ask her about it, but he just doesn’t know how.

–

Mousepaw and Runningpaw are getting closer to their warrior ceremony; Mousepaw was already a little spitfire, and Runningpaw’s aptitude for hunting is something that Redtail thinks is extremely helpful toward ThunderClan.

He watches one late morning as Runningpaw pads proudly back into camp, a plump vole in his small jaws and a satisfied gleam in his green gaze. He pads to the fresh-kill pile, bending down to gently set it down. The limp piece of prey drops into the pile, rolling down from the top slowly and finally coming to a short stop on the back of a starling.

Redtail smiles, nodding in approval as Runningpaw looks up from the pile and meets his gaze for a moment; his former denmate beams back at him, padding over to White-eye and rapidly meowing something to her.

The half-blind warrior purrs, smiling and placing a quick lick to the top of her sons forehead.

His mind moves onto Swiftbreeze unintentionally; his mother’s old age has occurred to him constantly. How long will she be able to keep standing? When will she retire? Will her eye sight fail first, or will it be her hearing?

He knows that he’s supposed to be a grown warrior; warriors don’t meddle with their parents because they’re mature. They don’t _need_ them anymore.

But, still. That doesn’t stop him from helping Swiftbreeze into her nest and watching over her for a few seconds before laying down.

–

Redtail sits down to eat prey with Whitestorm and Fuzzypelt, half-listening as the furry black warrior says something about Robinwing and he having a small falling out. He sympathizes with the tom, really, but he gets instantly distracted from the conversation when he sees both Thistleclaw and Tigerclaw shouldering their way out of the warriors den.

He can’t hear their conversation, but they seem to be deep into whatever it is; Tigerclaw nods along slightly every once and awhile, while Thistleclaw flicks a torn ear and grows an eerie smile.

(He can see Whitestorm look up, follow his gaze, and then dip his head slightly, adverting his gaze to his forepaws. Redtail thinks that it must hurt to see your own father spend more time with one of your closest friends and enjoy their company more than yours.)

–

On the dawn patrol, Redtail pads alongside Bluefur and Goldenflower, keeping his nose and ears alert as he moves through the thick terrain. It takes the three of them a short while and much ground covered for the fact that the fourth member of the patrol, Willowpelt, has disappeared.

Redtail calls out for her, and she sluggishly appears, swaying slightly as she stands. His pale gray sister shakes out her fur, ducking her head in a mixture of shame and embarrassment as she rubs a paw over her lips.

“I got a little bit sick, but I’m okay now. Must’ve been something I ate.”

A knowing, excited look passes between Goldenflower and Bluefur. Redtail is struck clueless as to what could be _so_ exciting and pleasurable about his littermate getting sick out of literally nowhere in the early morning.

–

“I’ve got some exciting news, Redtail!” Willowpelt meows to him excitedly one morning., her blue eyes wide and almost bursting with joy. He jolts up from his half-sleep daze, yawning groggily. “You’re definitely _not_ going to believe it – well, maybe you will believe it, but maybe you won’t, I’m not very sure-”

Redtail raises a brow, blinking slowly up at his littermate. She stops mid sentence, her mouth wide open, and she shuts it, nodding.

“Right. Babbling again. But I’m – well, I’m _pregnant._ ”

Redtail is immediately wide awake after _that_ revelation, getting to his paws and twitching his ear. “Wait, _what?_ ”

Willowpelt laughs, shaking her head. “Well, don’t look so shocked. I _do_ have some toms that like me.”

He frowns. “It’s not- It isn’t _that._ I’m just…you never seemed like you had a tom that you were close enough with – no offense – but I’m just…shocked.” After a moment of processing the information, he blinks, looking at his paws, and glancing up at her once again. “Wait – who’s the father?”

A moment of silence flickers between them, and she shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Redtail stares at her, and begins to conjure up a sentence in response, but Willowpelt only smiles, continuing to talk to him about how excited she was, and how much she was certain that she’d be a good mother.

He smiles, and murmurs his congratulations and says yes, he does think that she’d be a good mother.

–

Runningpaw becomes Runningwind, and Mousepaw becomes Mousefur.

Redtail pads forward along with Willowpelt and Spottedleaf to congratulate their old denmates; Willowpelt gives Mousefur an affectionate ear lick, while Redtail bumps his nose against Runningwind’s.

Even though Redtail himself never trained either of them, he can’t help but feel an immense sense of pride go through him at the sight of them.

–

Little Darkkit is born two moons later; his fur is a dark gray, with thick, black tabby stripes circling his pelt. Willowpelt coos and purrs over him, always showing him off to any cat that would listen.

Redtail watches as, day by day, not a single tom clings to her side or comes to visit the nursery and see him.

It’s not his business, but. It worries him.

–

“Redtail, come on a patrol with me, will you?”

Redtail glances over at Tigerclaw, nodding. “Of course.”

He has never had the chance to have a one-on-one conversation with Tigerclaw, but he seems nice enough.

–

Adderfang, finally, and unfortunately, passes one night in his sleep, curled up beside Swiftbreeze.

His father has lead a long and happy life, with five healthy kits and a faithful mate. And even though Redtail’s heart throbs with grief and pain as he watches the mottled tabby’s body laid out in the camp clearing for his final rest, he knows that he’ll see him in StarClan, one day.

(Hopefully, that day will be a long, _long_ time from now.)

–

Swiftbreeze dies four days after Adderfang.

Redtail doesn’t understand it; how can one mate die in his sleep, and the other do the same only four short days after?

(He thinks that, perhaps, when you meet someone you love and want to spend the rest of your life with, the universe does you a few favors so that you can always be together.)

–

“I’m sorry about your parents, by the way,” Tigerclaw tells him one day on the border patrol, nodding at him. Lionheart and White-eye are behind them, foxlengths away as Lionheart makes a new scent marker and White-eye investigates a dead thrush. “Adderfang was a good warrior, and even though I didn’t get the chance to talk to Swiftbreeze much, she seemed pleasant enough.”

Redtail nods. “Thanks.”

Tigerclaw shrugs, and murmurs a “No problem.”

–

Darkkit bounces after him excitedly, newly-turned yellow eyes bright with glee. “Uncle Redtail, Uncle Redtail, guess what?”

Redtail chuckles softly, turning to his nephew and smiling. “What?”

The growing tabby kit wiggles in his standing position. “The next full moon is only a few days from now, and that’ll be my sixth one! I’m going to be an apprentice in no time!”

Redtail smiles warmly. “That’s definitely exciting news, alright. The Clan will definitelybe so much more safe with you as one of our warriors, Darkkit, believe me.”

–

Darkpaw is apprenticed to Tigerclaw, and Redtail watches as Tigerclaw stares down at the small tabby kitten, a scowl on his face when he watches Darkpaw hop around him. Darkpaw purrs, meowing excitedly about how he was ready to learn anything and everything.

He smiles, hoping that the respected warrior would aid his nephew into the comfortable and good life of a warrior.

–

Willowpelt smiles; she’s sitting beside he and Bluefur, the three of them nonchalantly chatting about nothing of importance.

He follows her gaze, to where Darkpaw and Tigerclaw are padding out of camp – two moons after Darkpaw was named an apprentice.

“I’m so proud of him,” she tells them, turning to look at her littermates.

Bluefur purrs, touching her nose against Willowpelt’s ear. “That’s because you’re a wonderful mother, Willowpelt,” she meows.

Redtail can’t help but listen to how _bitter_ she sounds.

–

Lionheart pads beside him, glancing over to where Sunstar and Bluefur are, padding outside of the leaders den. It’s blatantly obvious to Redtail that Sunstar is aging; the fur around his muzzle is getting paler and more gray, and his thick fur seems no longer as bright as before.

“He’s getting old,” Lionheart murmurs, frowning.

Redtail nods. “Hopefully he’s got a few good seasons left.”

–

He wakes up to Robinwing telling him that Sparrowpelt fought of a badger from entering the camp, and that he’s lost part of his tail in the process.

–

“He’s going to be okay, won’t he?” White-eye asks Spottedleaf, blinking down at her resting mate. Redtail can see that cobwebs are tightly wrapped around the end of Sparrowpelt’s tail, and dots of dark red blood clot the bottom of the binds.

His sister nods, giving White-eye a small smile. “Yes,” she meows, touching the senior warrior’s shoulder with her tail. “He’s going to be just fine.”

Featherwhisker pads into the den alongside Sunstar, sighing. “He’ll live, but I’m not certain he can continue being a warrior.”

Mousefur shoots the medicine cat a worried look, her eyes wide. “Wh-what?”

Sunstar glances at his brother, before looking back to Sparrowpelt’s family. Redtail himself scoots back, sitting next to his sister.

“We’ll take some assessments to be sure, but. There is a high chance that Sparrowpelt will lose his ability to balance himself.”

White-eye looks at the leader, before laying down beside her mate, touching her muzzle to his.

Redtail murmurs an apology before padding out of the den, soon realizing that he was intruding on a private family moment.

–

When Sparrowpelt wakes up and heals up enough, Sunstar and Bluefur take him out into the forest and begin their promised assessments to see if he’s able to balance himself.

He fails, and the tabby takes it upon himself to finally retire. Sunstar preforms a name changing ceremony, and he becomes Halftail.

–

Later on, Goosefeather finally passes in his sleep.

The ceremony is short and awkward.

–

Thrushpelt begins coughing one morning, and complains about a chest ache.

The sky is rumbling with thunder when Featherwhisker announces that he has greencough – the perfect dramatic affect, Redtail thinks.

–

Bluefur is the one who makes the most visits to Thrushpelt in his time of sickness; Redtail often sees her thick blue-gray fur disappearing behind the mass of lichen.

One time, when Redtail is passing by with Goldenflower at his side, chatting to her about something or other, he can hear a soft “Thank you for everything.”

–

Two days later, Poppydawn and Stormtail begin coughing as well.

Featherwhisker hardly makes an appearance out of the medicine cat den.

–

Smallear retires a few days later; he says that, although he wants to be able to help the Clan through this tough time, he’s too old to do anything of the sort anymore.

–

Darkpaw becomes Darkstripe; Redtail is one of the loudest who cheers, along with Willowpelt and Spottedleaf.

He watches with rapt attention as Darkstripe completely ignores his mother’s affectionate lick of pride, and ducks over to go with Tigerclaw.

–

Robinwing becomes pregnant during this harsh time, but he hears from Goldenflower that Fuzzypelt is not the father.

–

Stormtail passes away first; his elderly age had made it so it was harder for him to fight off the greencough than Thrushpelt or Poppydawn.

Redtail sits beside Bluefur for a moment as the deputy mourns the loss of her father; her blue eyes are clouded with pain and Redtail notices, with horror, that she is now the last of her family to be alive.

–

Rains come harshly; the water splashes down on the camp clearing, soaking the warriors and apprentices as they make their way out for patrols and training sessions.

Redtail shakes out his fur, glancing at Brindleface. “I wonder when this will stop,” he meows, twisting his body so that he can survey the water on his back.

“I know,” she says with a sigh, shaking her head. “If this keeps up, then I’m sure we’ll end up noses deep in water.”

He purrs his agreement.

–

Leopardfoot begins to get sick as well, and Redtail makes visits to her along with Willowpelt often. He notices with interest as Tigerclaw spends more time than not with his mother, making sure that she eats and that she keeps up her strength.

–

Robinwing is laying in the nursery when she gives birth to a single tomkit named Longkit; he hears from Frostfur that he has pale fur and black tabby stripes, adorned with an unusually long tail. It makes him a somewhat interesting sight to behold.

Fuzzypelt visits her often, but Redtail supposes that they are short and awkward.

–

“Redtail, can you help me with something?”

He looks up from where he’s fixing his nest – just patting the edges and making it more round and compact – and over to the entrance of the warriors den, where Brindleface is standing. Her clear green gaze locks with his, a soft smile spreading on the admittedly beautiful tabby’s face.

Redtail nods, turning so that he’s facing her completely. “Sure. What do you need?”

The tabby sighs. “It’s kind of embarrassing, really, but Robinwing wanted to borrow my nest last night – something about the nursery being too rowdy for her and she needed some air – and she kind of…went into labor in there.”

Redtail blinks, at first unsure of what she’s getting at, until he remembers treading in some dampness as soon as Robinwing was escorted out of the warriors den…

_Oh._

He shifts awkwardly, and then nods once again, watching as Brindleface purrs in delight and turns. He follows her out of the den, glancing at her from the corner of his eye when he notices her slow her pace down. She pads at his side, murmuring something to him about how her new, younger half-brother – Longkit – was cute.

Redtail hasn’t had the opportunity to see him, but. He’s not sure where he stood with the whole Fuzzypelt-Robinwing debacle that currently was going on – on one side, Fuzzypelt was his friend and a cat that he’s always looked up to, but on the other, he’s sure that Robinwing has her reasons for having another litter with another tom. And he’s never been one to pry on the personal relationships with others, so.

“I hope this isn’t too much of a bother,” Brindleface says to him as soon as they reach a small patch of moss.

Redtail shakes his head, putting out a paw and beginning to gather a small bundle of moss. “It’s not,” he tells her, glancing up. “I’m just not sure why you chose _me_ instead of Whitestorm or Bluefur or someone. Not to say that I don’t like you, or anything, but. I’m just a little surprised.”

Brindleface shrugs. “I just wanted to get to know you a little better,” she murmurs after a beat of silence. “We were in the apprentices den together for a moon, and I always went with my sister and Whitestorm to come and see you, but we’ve never really _talked,_ you know?”

Redtail stares at her for a moment, blinking. Brindleface was a popular member in the Clan – she naturally had an easy-going relationship with everyone, and it was no secret that many toms had their eye on her. She could be spending time with _anyone,_ and yet she chose _him?_

She notices his staring, and she smiles bashfully. “What?” she asks, twitching her tail-tip.

He clears his throat. “It’s- you can be spending time with a lot of other cats, but you’re choosing me to help you out. I just…I’m kind of confused, that’s all.” He meows, looking down and continuing to build up his moss pile.

Brindleface shrugs. “Well, you’re nice, and you haven’t caused any trouble that I know of, so.” She pauses for a moment, and looks down to her paws, before glancing up at him. “And, besides, I just wanted to spend a little time with you. Like I said, I wanted to get to know you better.”

Redtail smiles, and he almost scowls in embarrassment when he feels the tips of his ears grow warm. _Focus, Redtail. Try_ not _to act like a complete idiot._

“Thank you,” he meows, nodding.

“You’re welcome.”

–

Redtail runs his tongue over his shoulder fur, glancing over at Willowpelt. His sister holds a despondent gaze, and she looks at her paws in what Redtail believes is an almost miserable manner.

“Are you okay?” he asks, reaching out a paw to brush against hers.

Willowpelt sighs. “It’s Darkstripe,” she meows, glancing up at him. “He’s not…he’s _different._ I feel like I don’t even know my own son anymore.”

He frowns. “He’s just growing up, Willowpelt,” he tells her, attempting at a smile in hopes that it’ll cheer her up. “He’ll grow out of his rebellion stage soon, and then he’ll come to you all of the time to talk. You’ll see.”

Willowpelt meets his gaze for a heartbeat, before sighing once again. “I hope so.”

–

In only a matter of days, Poppydawn passes, with Thrushpelt dying a day later. Leopardfoot joins them after five days of fighting away the sickness.

Redtail attempts to do his part by organizing patrols while Bluefur sits vigil for the three warriors, her grief probably unimaginable. He forces away his own anger and agony over Leopardfoot’s death, knowing that it would do no one any good for every cat to be in a funk.

Bluefur smiles at him, and murmurs a soft thank you when she notices that he’s done her job for her without being asked to.

–

Longkit skips around Robinwing’s paws as the small brown she-cat pads to the clearing of camp, picking out a small sparrow for her and her son. Redtail watches them, and remembers almost instantly that Longkit was six moons old, and ready to become an apprentice.

“I think that Darkstripe should be his mentor,” Redtail tells Bluefur quietly, glancing over at her and then back to the lanky kitten.

Bluefur pauses in her washing, twitching an ear. “Why?”

Redtail frowns. “Darkstripe has been acting strange lately. I think that, by giving him an apprentice, it might cheer him up and make him…normal again, you know?” he says, hoping that his request doesn’t sound too biased toward Darkstripe being his kin.

Bluefur watches Longkit bounce around, and nods slowly. “I’ll put in a good word for Darkstripe with Sunstar later.”

–

Longpaw is made Darkstripe’s apprentice, just like Redtail requested.

Willowpelt goes over to congratulate him, but Darkstripe just shrugs her off.

–

Featherwhisker is one of the last of the Clan to die in that horrible bout of greencough. The exhaustion that he suffered from continuously working on curing everyone.

Redtail sits beside Spottedleaf for the vigil, and Willowpelt is at his other side.

–

Brindleface looks over at him one morning; her green gaze glows slightly with an emotion that Redtail is not sure of. She smiles, and jerks her head over in the direction of the entrance of camp.

Redtail follows her, keeping an awkward silence as she leads him from the camp.

“I really like you,” Brindleface tells him as she turns around. “I mean – more than just a friend. I just…I like being around you.”

He smiles, looking at his paws. “You’re serious?” he asks after a moment of silence, looking back up at her.

Brindleface was, well, _Brindleface._ She was popular, she had so many cats that enjoyed being around her, and had a whole Clan worth of suitors and yet she’s choosing…him. He’s Redtail – average, quiet, and slightly awkward Redtail.

She sighs, although it’s not out of impatience or annoyance. “Why would I lie?” she asks, shrugging and allowing another smile to slip onto her attractive face. “I like you a lot, Redtail.”

He shuffles his paws, and purrs. “I like you a lot, too.”

Silence stretches between them, but it’s not awkward. Brindleface leans forward – it’s just then that Redtail realizes that she’s taller than him – and licks his cheek, a small purr slipping from her throat.

He _really_ hopes that there’s no patrol’s coming by anytime soon.

–

“Robinwing is expecting a third litter,” Whitestorm tells him as they pad alongside the RiverClan border, with Goldenflower listening in behind them. “Fuzzypelt says that they rekindled their relationship, and he’s the father.”

Redtail beams. “Well, good on them! Kits are great, you know? They’re grow into good cats, and when there’s more cats in the Clan, that means more friends for everyone, right?”

Whitestorm stares at him, raising a brow. “Are you okay? You seem…chipper.”

Goldenflower snaps her head up from where she was observing the river. “Is that even a word, ‘chipper’?”

The white-furred tom breaks his stare at Redtail to look back at her. “It’s like happy or gleeful.”

Before Goldenflower and Whitestorm could launch into a debate about Whitestorm’s choice of words, Redtail purrs.

“I’m just…life is kind of good right now.”

At least, it was for now.

–

When Sunstar starts to cough again, Redtail can practically _feel_ the terror well through the Clan.

–

“So. You and Brindleface – is that something worth talking about?” Tigerclaw asks him one morning on the dawn patrol, flicking his ear.

Redtail smirks, and shrugs. “We’re not – well, we’re not exactly mates, but. We’ve….you know.”

Tigerclaw stares at him. “Wow. You’re shorter than her, how did you-”

“Can we not talk about this?” Bluefur pipes from the back, scowling in disapproval. “Keep it between yourselves, thank you.”

–

Brindleface pads up to him a few days later, her eyes wide and bright with joy. She waves her tail in the air, beckoning him to come forward.

Redtail watches as she lets out a sigh of pleasure, before purring. “I’m…I’m _pregnant._ ”

He stares at her for a few seconds, jaw opened, and eyes wide. “Are you…I…we… _kits_ …nursery..”

She flicks her ear. “Take your time.”

“They’re mine, right? I’m not at all suggesting that you’d do _that_ , but I just – I mean – I’m a tortoiseshell tom, and Featherwhisker told me a while back that tortoiseshell toms are almost always infertile, so I’m just double checking-”

Brindleface brushes her tail over his mouth. “I didn’t cheat on you, or anything, Redtail. You’re the only tom that I’ve-”

“Why is everyone suddenly talking about _that_ in public places?” Bluefur growls as soon as she exits the warriors den, rolling her eyes. “This Clan has no shame, I swear.”

Redtail turns to the deputy, purring and positively _beaming_ in his glee. “Bluefur, she’s – Brindleface is – _pregnant._ She has kittens in her belly.”

Bluefur drops her annoyed demeanor almost immediately, smiling. “Oh, congratulations!” she tells her, bumping noses with the dappled tabby. “That’s wonderful news!”

Brindleface flushes, and glances at Redtail, reaching out a paw to bump it against his own. “It is, isn’t it?”

–

Robinwing gives birth to her two sons in a moons time; their names are Dustkit and Ravenkit, and Brindleface sits in the nursery with her mother, watching over her younger brothers and cooing over them.

Longpaw is getting closer and closer to gaining his warrior name. White-eye has now, officially and faithfully, retired, with Sunstar giving her a name change to One-eye. Dappletail has joined her, and Redtail has heard Patchpelt say that he’s going to follow them soon.

Redtail feels like every cat in the Clan is moving on, growing up, and he’s trying to keep up with it all.

–

Brindleface smiles as he pads in, a mouse hanging from his jaws. Redtail sets it down gently, watching as his – wait, what were they, again? mates? very, _very_ good friends? did it even matter? - pick it up and drag it to her paws.

“Thank you, Redtail,” she murmurs, glancing up at him with warm and gentle green eyes. “You’re too good to me.”

He smiles at her, giving her forehead a small lick. “Well. I plan on sticking around for quite some time, so. You’ve got to get used to it.” He tells her jokingly.

–

“Redtail, you have to wake up – Brindleface is going into labor!”

Redtail’s eyes snap open, and he gets to his paws immediately; he watches as Willowpelt gives him space to get up and move. He slips past his sister, and runs into the camp – he sees Goldenflower and Lionheart sitting by the nursery; Goldenflower gives him a small smile.

He pads to her. “Is Brindleface okay? Is she hurt? How is everything?”

Goldenflower purrs. “Spottedleaf is with her now. She’s okay.”

He shakes in his fur, glancing into the nursery, and back at Goldenflower. “What do I do now? Do I go inside?”

Lionheart clears his throat. “I think it’s best for you to wait out here, Redtail; there’s no knowing what kind of pain she’s in, and queens do lash out when they’re in labor.”

And so he begins waiting.

–

It’s about sunset when Spottedleaf finally pokes her head out of the nursery, clear golden gaze meeting his eyes and a soft smile to grace her kind features. His sister nods, and dips back inside – a clear indication for him to follow her.

Redtail sucks in a deep breath, and pads after her. He can’t help but feel shivers of excitement rattle his fur; his yellow gaze takes in the dark surroundings of the nursery with half-interest, until his gaze finds Brindleface in her nest.

The dappled tabby is slightly panting; her tongue is poking out of her mouth, and she’s practically gasping for breath. She looks over at him, and smiles, shuffling over to the side and moving her tail, and-

He never thought a kitten could be so beautiful.

Redtail stares down at the kitten – _his_ kitten, he and Brindleface’s – and feels a powerful, near heart stopping emotion pounding in his chest. He gulps; this- this _love_ that he feels for this kit is more than anything else he’s ever had the chance to experience.

He wants to protect this kit with his life, if he has to. He wants to be able to teach them things and wants to see them catch their first piece of prey and wants to be there when their own kittens are born. He’s certain that seeing your offspring for the very first time and experiencing this extreme love is next to the best feeling in the world.

“Just one daughter,” Spottedleaf appears at his side, nudging his shoulder with a small, pink nose. “But that’s alright, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Redtail meows after a few beats of silence. He’s still staring at his daughter, his eyes wide and unblinking. He meets Brindleface’s gaze. “She’s perfect.”

Brindleface moves her tail down, and shifts so that Redtail can get a full view of her, before patting the moss in front of her. “Come over and see her. She needs a name.”

Redtail pads over slowly, settling himself behind Brindleface in silence. He peers at his little, newborn daughter; she’s a pale ginger, with faint tabby stripes slicing through her pelt. He can see pale-colored marks on her paws, muzzle, and perhaps her chest and belly.

“I think I like Sandkit for her,” Brindleface murmurs, purring. “It fits her, you know?”

Redtail nods. “I love that name,” He pauses in his staring at Sandkit, and looks at Brindleface. “Who would’ve guessed that we would have a little family?”

Brindleface smiles softly. “Life is full of surprises.”

–

“Redtail, can you help me on this patrol-”

“In a moment, Runningwind, I just want to check on Sandkit and Brindleface again.”

“This is the third time this morning, Redtail.”

–

Willowpelt smiles at him, Spottedleaf proudly standing at her side. “I’m pregnant again, Redtail,” she tells him, her eyes alight with joy.

He purrs, telling her a congratulations and enthusiastically meowing: “Now Sandkit will have other kits that she can play with. She’ll be close with her new kin, I bet.”

–

Willowpelt gives birth to a single tom. His fur is fluffy and gray – just a few shades darker than his mothers – and he has a single, darker stripe going down his back. She names him Graykit.

Once again, Redtail watches as not a single tom goes to see the newest edition to ThunderClan. He’s bothered by it a little bit, but. Willowpelt was an amazing mother to Darkstripe, and Redtail is positively certain that she’ll be a wonderful parent to Graykit.

Darkstripe only visits his mother and (presumed half) brother once, and the visit itself is short.

–

Windflight passes a moon after his daughter is born, and Redtail mourns the loss of the loyal, half-Clan warrior. Patchpelt finally retires a few days after Windflight’s death.

–

Sandkit pads over to him as soon as he comes back from helping Bluefur organize hunting patrols, her kitten-blue eyes gleaming in the sunlight. Her sand-colored fur – her obvious namesake – is fluffed up, and her whiskers twitch up at her father.

“Dad,” she begins, and Redtail can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat at the sound of it. He’s a _father._ _Him._ “Can we play a game? Dustkit’s getting punished for tackling Ravenkit, and Willowpelt says that Graykit’s too small.”

Redtail purrs, bending down to give his daughter a lick between her ears. “Of course we can,” he says enthusiastically, a wide smile growing on his face.

As Sandkit purrs, turning around to find a suitable moss ball, Redtail can’t help but call out: “Sandkit?”

She looks at him over her shoulder, flicking her small ear. “Yeah?”

“You know I love you, right?”

His daughter rolls her eyes. “Of course I do, Dad! Just like I love you!”

–

“Sandkit, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Sandpaw. Whitestorm will be your mentor.”

Redtail beams in pride as his daughter steps toward the white-furred warrior, stretching up her muzzle to bump it against his nose. Sandpaw blinks over at he and Brindleface, a goofy smile on her face.

He looks down at where his now-first apprentice, Dustpaw, sits, smiling down at him. Finally, he was given the opportunity to share his knowledge with a young cat of the Clan. “So,” he says, gaining the small, dark brown tabby’s attention. “Let me take you on tour of the territory.”

–

“The badgers came out of nowhere,” Rosetail pants, shaking her head. Sunstar’s green gaze – fogged with age and that sickness that _still_ has not left him – narrows. “They…Fuzzypelt and Robinwing… _both_ of them…are _gone._ ”

–

Redtail gives Dustpaw a few days off of training in order to heal from the loss of both of his parents. Rosetail retires soon after that attack; Spottedleaf told him that her shoulder had been quite screwed up from a blow from one of the badgers.

He can’t help but feel a tinge of anger when he sees Tigerclaw make Ravenpaw go out for battle training – clearly no sympathy held for the fact that both of his apprentice’s parents _just died_.

–

Longpaw is finally made into a warrior; his name is Longtail, and Brindleface practically drags Redtail over to congratulate the new warrior.

–

Bluefur stands on top of the Highrock, blue eyes downcast and full of an overwhelming sense of grief and agony.

“Sunstar has lead a life full of prosperity and fierce loyalty to this Clan. He has done everything in his power to make ThunderClan an honorable and peaceful Clan, and I will do my best – as leader – to continue this streak, and to keep it alive.”

A murmur of sadness stirs in the gathered crowd of cats; Redtail takes a moment to murmur a prayer to StarClan in hopes that Sunstar’s spirit is safe and happy in up in their ranks.

“She’s going to chose a deputy,” Redtail jolts as Goldenflower leans toward him. “It’s moonhigh now, anyway.”

He nods.

Bluefur takes a moment, and Redtail can practically _feel_ a wave of apprehension in the crowd.

“I say these words in front of the body of Sunstar, and StarClan, so that they can hear me and approve of my choice. I elect Redtail as my deputy.”

Redtail blinks, staring up at her with wide eyes. Heads turn to him; some surprised, others pleased, and a few unsure.

“I…,” Redtail begins, not sure of what he’s _supposed_ to say. This is so, completely unexpected. He’s only _just_ gotten an apprentice, and there were _so_ many other warriors that deserved the title more than him: Lionheart, Whitestorm, Goldenflower, and Tigerclaw, just to name a few.

But, despite his insecurities, he realizes that Bluefur _must_ believe in him. And as long as the leader of ThunderClan believed and trusted him enough to make him her deputy, he supposes that it was only right for him to do any and everything he can in order to make the Clan better.

“I accept.”

–

Redtail is half-asleep, drowsiness clinging to his brain and his eyelids droopy, when he begins to hear angry and rushed hisses from outside of the warriors den.

“I can’t _believe_ that she chose a deputy who’s seasons less experienced than _I_ am-”

His ears prick in alertness when he hears the familiar, deep tone. Redtail feels that nugget of guilt and anxiety that he had begun to feel from Bluestar’s announcement grow into a ball of ice.

“Who does she think she is?”

He closes his eyes tightly, and tries his best to shut out Thistleclaw’s angry snarls.

–

Thistleclaw disappears that morning. Both Tigerclaw and Whitestorm are the first to notice, and the first to make complaints to Bluestar about it; Redtail watches as what he thinks is a shadow crosses her clear gaze, before she sets her jaw and looks out to the forest.

“If he’s still gone after sunhigh, I’ll send out a search patrol.”

–

Sunhigh comes, and Whitestorm and Tigerclaw pad out together, both of them intent on finding the senior warrior.

–

When Whitestorm comes back, white fur spotted in dark red blood and yellow eyes clouded with grief, Redtail already knows what he’s going to announce.

“Thistleclaw. He’s….by the river. Wounds all over him. Tigerclaw is carrying him into camp-”

Bluestar stretches out a paw to touch Whitestorm’s, but the warrior just turns, looking behind him. The foliage in front of the entrance shakes, and a large body shoulders it’s way through.

Redtail thinks that having your body dragged into camp by a Clanmate is one of the worst things for your family to see.

–

_A RiverClan patrol_. It’s the explanation that Bluestar – by Redtail and Whitestorm’s persuasion – has figured out from a Gathering. Apparently, Thistleclaw had met an (what ThunderClan has assumed since Thistleclaw, no matter how hard-headed he can be, would _never_ attack unprovoked) invading RiverClan patrol, and attempted to fight them off single-pawed.

Mousefur growls. “They want Sunningrocks back, don’t they?” she asks Runningwind. Her yellow eyes are narrowed in anger, and Runningwind touches his nose to his sister’s, before nodding.

“Probably. Those fish-eaters don’t know when to stop taking what another cat has.”

–

“They’re crying for justice, Bluestar,” Redtail murmurs to her, frowning. He joins her on the Highrock, tucking his paws behind his fluffy red tail. “Thistleclaw’s death has been hard on them.”

Bluestar is rigidly still. “On _them,_ ” she echoes, before slowly turning her head to him. “But not on _you._ Or me.”

Redtail shifts. “I’ve always had my doubts about Thistleclaw. His ambition would always get the best of him.” He answers awkwardly. He looks at her, blinking. “But what about you? Not to pry, but. You two have never seemed to get along. Why?”

His leader sighs. “I know they want to avenge his death,” She’s changing the subject, but Redtail knows better than to continue his attempts of getting her to talk. He’ll probably end up with a cuffed ear. “But RiverClan has had their fair share of troubles. I can’t just launch an _attack_ onthem.”

The way that she says ‘attack’ reminds Redtail of how one would say ‘murder’ or ‘annihilation’. As if it’s something so utterly _horrible_ and bad that she can hardly process it – it makes Redtail feel a bit uncomfortable, and he shifts once again.

“But if they want Sunningrocks back, then that will just cause more deaths of our warriors,” he presses. “We’ll just send out bigger patrols. One cat will be assigned to come back and report if anything goes badly, and then more warriors will swoop in to the rescue. Easy.”

Bluestar looks at him; her eyes are still lined with worry, but, despite it all, she slowly nods. “I suppose it’s worth a try.”

–

The first battle patrol that meets a RiverClan patrol drives the fish-eaters back with ease. Mousefur, Goldenflower, Runningwind, Lionheart, and Tigerclaw come back, meowing about triumph against them.

The second is equally successful, and Redtail thinks that, maybe, they’ll win this.

–

“We won’t stand for this, Bluestar,” Crookedstar growls at a Gathering, green eyes narrowed to slits. “You won’t get those rocks, and you know it.”

Bluestar grins. “We can try.”

–

Redtail feels blood pounding in his ears, with claws scratching at his vision and trying to claw his skin, to tear it and leave him wounded. He ducks, kicking out a paw from in front of him, and causing a gray tabby she-cat to fall to her side, the warrior just narrowly missing his throat.

He gasps for breath as he moves to the side, and just missing a strike from a brown tom.

He sees Tigerclaw across the battlefield, holding down who he thinks is Oakheart – the RiverClan deputy and Crookedstar’s brother – and he watches for just a moment, mesmerized by the way that Tigerclaw is easily able to keep him from fighting.

A shoulder collides with his flank, and Redtail rolls away from a blow to his head, scrambling back to his paws and hissing at a black tom – Blackclaw, isn’t it? - and his back arches.

“Like we would give you these rocks so easily,” Blackclaw hisses. Immediately, Redtail is insecure about his height because _seriously,_ almost every grown cat towers him. “You forest cats don’t belong here.”

Redtail growls. “ThunderClan won’t back away without a fight!” And their fight is short and painful; Redtail hates how his shoulder was caught so easily in Blackclaw’s hold, how his teeth just narrowly missed Redtail’s throat.

When he is finally able to dislodge Blackclaw, and sends the tom tumbling off with a proper strike to his flank, Redtail turns, watching as his warriors are being beaten to the rocky ground. Their blood splashes against the stones, streams of it rolling down and dripping into the bright blue river.

“ThunderClan, retreat!” he yowls, causing almost every broad head to snap in his direction.

It takes some convincing of Tigerclaw, but he’s able to get everyone away soon enough; Mousefur has to be supported by Lionheart, and Darkstripe has a deep gash on his side, but. They’re all alive, at least.

He knows that it would practically _kill_ Bluestar to have something happen to any of them.

–

Bluestar seems to be drawn back, lately; she looks as though she is continuously pondering on some deep, unforeseen unknown.

“Graykit has reached his sixth moon,” he tells her quietly one morning, frowning as she jolts, looking over to him. “It’s time for him to become an apprentice.”

She nods. “Oh. Right.”

–

Graypaw is apprenticed to Lionheart, and Redtail watches as Willowpelt nearly bombards his youngest son with licks.

–

“Ravenpaw needs the battle experience,” Tigerclaw presses him, eyes narrowed. There’s a glint in there, something that makes Redtail a bit nervous as the tabby stares him down. “He’s jumpy and paranoid, and that has to be broken now before it becomes a bigger problem.”

Redtail frowns. “So just you, Ravenpaw, and I on a patrol to RiverClan?” he asks, frowning.

Tigerclaw nods, and then shoulders him lightly. “Come on, Redtail, with me on that patrol, you don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ve got your back.”

–

“I’ll be back,” Redtail meows, smiling. “You know I will, Brindleface.”

His – they still have never decided on what they were, because although he cares for her, he really does, he’s never been sure if he _loves_ her – stares at him, green eyes taunt with worry.

She growls. “Why does Tigerclaw need you on that patrol, anyway? Why not Lionheart or Whitestorm?I mean, you _barely_ got back last time!” she cries incredulously.

He sighs. “Lionheart and Whitestorm were sent on a patrol this morning – Bluestar needed them to do something for her.”

Brindleface pushes her muzzle against his, and he can just feel her worry and fear emanating off of her, cloaking him and making Redtail think, for just a moment, maybe he _shouldn’t_ be doing this.

“Come back, alright? I can’t keep making up excuses for Sandpaw about why you’re always fighting RiverClan instead of spending time with her.”

–

Tigerclaw is at his side immediately when the first blow comes from Oakheart’s patrol; the huge tabby growls, driving off a grizzled she-cat almost immediately and throwing off a tortoiseshell she-cat from his back.

Redtail whips his tail from side to side in anger when he sees Ravenpaw running away from another apprentice, the small black tom almost yowling in fear. _Why did Tigerclaw insist on bringing him if he’s too frightened to even fight?_

He ducks against a blow, shoulders away a body, and bites a flank. He’s in a zone; continuously fighting and making moves against his enemy, using tricks that he learned from Halftail back in his apprentice days and using his size as an advantage.

Redtail feels blood spray across his chest from where he nicked a small black-and-white cat in _just_ the right shoulder spot.

And then Oakheart comes out of literally _nowhere_ and shoves him back, sending him rolling on the rocky ground. Redtail bumps his shoulder on a boulder, and he leaps to his paws, glaring at the reddish-brown tom with fury laced in his gaze.

Oakheart smirks, white fangs drawn out and grinning at him, and the tom leaps at him once again. Redtail feels the weight of the other tom shoving him down, but he slips out just in time to save himself from encountering a face full of gravel.

Oakheart’s claws scratch down his side, and blood trickles down at Redtail’s paws, but he doesn’t even _care_ in that moment; all he does is shove Oakheart _back_ , shoving him away and keeping him from getting closer and closer to the forest.

Both deputies are locked in an intense battle – Redtail thinks that, as he looks up for a tiny moment and sees less and less cats on the field, that Tigerclaw was a great choice to bring along – and Redtail is doing everything to protect his Clan, to protect Brindleface and Sandpaw and Bluestar and Halftail and Darkstripe and every other cat in his life.

He doesn’t even see the loose rocks on top of the small cliff.

All it took was one small shove. Oakheart hits the back of the cliff. It rattles from the weight of the tom, and when Redtail hears the mighty _CRACK_ come, and the tumbling of stone against stone, he backs up.

Oakheart is dazed and confused at first, but as soon as he blinks, focusing back on Redtail, all Redtail sees is rocks. Rocks smacking against Oakheart, driving him down and crushing him against his weight, and _oh StarClan_ he can see blood pooling from the bottom of the new pile.

Dust wraps around Redtail’s gaze, and he staggers back, shaking his head and forcing back a cry because _I just caused someone to die that was my fault he’s dead because of me Crookedstar will kill me and so will Oakheart’s kits it’s all my fault_.

But when Redtail looks back, he sees a shadow in the background, near the tree line next to the river. Crazed yellow slits are narrowed, fur is tufted, and when the dust begins to clear some more, he can see tortoiseshell fur, a white tail and scars lathering the body of the cat-

-Redtail shakes his head, and then it’s gone, disappearing in a mass of swirls in the wind. He frowns, and looks back to the rock pile.

He scents Tigerclaw approaching him, and he turns, eyes frantic. The tabby is padding to him, slowly, eyes glowing with-

“It wasn’t my fault,” Redtail begins, eyes wide. “It…don’t tell Sandpaw or Brindleface-”

“I don’t care about that,” Tigerclaw snarls, teeth bared.

Redtail blinks. “Is everyone gone? Did you drive them-”

Tigerclaw hisses, and then it’s all in slow motion. His paw slices through the air, and the tips of the claws are there for

_just a moment_

Redtail feels the claws move across his throat

pain

_Tigerclaw why are you doing this I thought we were friends_

golden eyes

a scar on the muzzle

it all fades with him as he collapses

trying to find his breath but soon realizing that he can’t _breathe_

he feels cold from the ground

but the warm feeling of going somewhere

somewhere _nice_

he sees himself

next to his sisters

Spottedkit plays with him

laughing as Willowkit falls on her face

Adderfang chides them both

with love in his gaze

and Swiftbreeze purrs

saying that she loves them

Mousefur and Runningwind are side by side

running through the forest

Whitestorm is with his father

Bluestar has kits, three of them

and they love her

but mostly

he can see a beautiful, pleasant face staring at him

kind and loving, with dappled gray fur and long, curled whiskers

the night that they shared

by the stream where _no one_ could break them apart

“I love you, Redtail.”

_Did she?_

she’s never said so but Redtail thinks that she did

he loves her

he does

Brindleface

why didn’t he say that he did

why couldn’t he say it just _once_

just so she’d know

and _Sandpaw_

his daughter, his little daughter

so small and unknown to the dangers of the world

with green eyes just like her mothers

who stares up at him, wonder and love in those green eyes

and she smiles, purring and nuzzling his face

“I love you, Daddy.”

but her _future_

he sees a ginger tom, standing proud

“Tigerclaw killed Redtail!”

and the Clan believes him

two she-kits

one with dark ginger fur just like his tail

one a brown tabby

and a _future_ that looks both dark and glorious

with a tom that looks like Tigerclaw and a tom with dark gray fur

there’s kits, three of them, and they look like

starlight

he feels his mother and father, both of them together in StarClan

“I’m sorry, son.”

_Brindleface._

_Sandpaw._

_Willowpelt._

_Spottedleaf._

_Darkstripe._

_Graypaw._

_Longtail._

_Dustpaw._

_Lionheart._

_Whitestorm._

_Mousefur._

_Runningwind._

_Halftail._

_Bluestar._

_I’m sorry I have to go-_

And he’s gone.


End file.
